


Building a Playlist For a Friendship

by DemonQueen666



Series: Folkin' Around verse [2]
Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Gen, Mild Language, Non-Graphic Violence, Starring Darcy's iPod
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-08
Updated: 2012-02-08
Packaged: 2017-10-30 19:12:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonQueen666/pseuds/DemonQueen666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy can pretty much always depend on her iPod. Her new and complex friendship with Loki, now that she isn't so sure about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Building a Playlist For a Friendship

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my Livejournal on 9/9/11. Second (chronological) installment in the Folkin' Around verse. Set a short period of time after the ending of "Kill all the pretty lies".

For over a month Darcy had been secret email penpals with a super-being from another dimension. It was yet another way her life was becoming notably different from most.

 

The “secret” part was because most people probably would’ve questioned her sanity if she tried to explain the “super-being from another dimension” part. And the few people who wouldn’t have any problems believing were already familiar with said super-being, and so would have questioned her sanity for whole other reasons.

 

Darcy was interested in keeping trouble to a minimum, both for herself and everyone else. Besides, it wasn’t like she’d _purposefully_ set out to keep it hidden from them.

 

It just never came up in conversation. That’s all.

 

Thor was really busy with his new “Avengers” thing (what, exactly, they were supposed to be ‘avenging’, Darcy had yet to uncover). Jane and Erik were still working on punching holes into time and space, which understandably took up a lot of time.

 

So Darcy went about her business, logging data and keeping her head down; and if every couple of days or so she sent a message to an alleged deity, hey, so what?

 

Communicating with Loki was almost disappointingly normal. His learning curve for Earth technology was pretty high – way higher than his brother’s, anyway, since it took exactly fifteen days to get Thor to stop calling the TV “the entertainment box”, and he once attacked a juicer for what was apparently a perceived insult. By comparison, Loki figured out Youtube and Google Earth without Darcy having to show him, and if he never responded to her occasional textspeak in kind, at least he seemed to understand it.

 

Darcy made a point to never mention much about what went on with Thor in her emails, just in case her early suspicions had been right and this was a tactic to spy on him. Loki didn’t ask about him a lot, either – possibly because he was giving his brother the cold shoulder. It was hard to get a read.

 

Mostly they were feeling each other out, and eventually they reached a comfortable routine Darcy started unconsciously taking for granted.

 

Then one afternoon she came back from the grocery store to what _should_ have been an empty lab, since everyone else was out for the day.

 

Except the first thing she saw was that her iPod was sitting out on a table, and it was on.

 

“What the heck?” Darcy marched over, snatching it up for a look. “Who’s been messing around with _you_?”

 

“My apologies.” She flinched in surprise, spinning around to find Loki sitting at a casual angle against another table. “I figured that you wouldn’t mind so long as I recharged it after.”

 

Her jaw dropped, blinking stupidly at him. “Loki? What are you doing here?” Her wits came back as she remembered the object in her hand. “And how does it involve poking through my iPod?” she demanded accusingly.

 

He had a perfectly calm expression. “Just familiarizing myself with decent mortal music. That’s all.”

 

Darcy glanced at the little screen. “Death Cab For Cutie? This album is over a year old,” she noted, incredulous. “In fact, I don’t think I even uploaded this…”

 

She trailed off suspiciously. Her laptop was off and none of the other computers had iTunes. She tried to weigh exactly how crazy it was to wonder if Loki had magically zapped songs straight to the device.

 

He made a brief face she couldn’t read. “Shame. I found it enjoyable.” She thought she identified his tone: defensive. Had she insulted his music tastes? But he was still talking, swiftly. “Anyway, that isn’t important.”

 

“No,” she had to agree. “It’s not. What’re you doing here? Not that it’s bad, I just haven’t see you in person in, I don’t know. Forever.”

 

After a month of written-only contact, she realized she’d sort of forgotten there was a physical person on the other end. As if Loki only existed in the confines of some exceptionally well-spelled emails.

 

Now that her shock was over with she smiled at him vaguely, fighting the urge to give him a hug. He didn’t always react well to hugs. She took him in: nothing was really different from last she remembered, right down to the weird elaborate clothes.

 

He smiled back at her though, which was a good sign. “I thought a visit might be a good idea. I have plans that are going to keep me quite occupied for a while, and I didn’t want you to wonder at not hearing from me.”

 

_Awww_. _How sweet!_ She moved a few steps closer at that, trying to will a hug at him with her mind. “What sort of plans?” she asked, curious.

 

Loki wagged one finger. “I promise you’ll hear all about them. Eventually.” His smile was more of a smirk by then.

 

Darcy gave a feigned pout, but she didn’t bother holding it for long, shrugging. “Oh well, okay. Thanks for giving me the heads-up anyway.” She went back to playing with her iPod absently. “Have fun with whatever it is you’re doing.”

 

“Oh, don’t worry,” Loki assured her. His smirk narrowed a bit. “I will.”

 

He disappeared.

 

Darcy pretty much forgot about it, going on with her routine.

 

Five days later she walked into the main room, her iPod on, humming as she listened to “Meet Me On The Equinox”.

 

But she stopped when she realized the TV was on, and it was showing explosions – on a news station, not some movie.

 

The camerawork was understandably a little fuzzy. But she caught glimpses of some guys in riot gear with guns, Thor, some of his Avengers buddies: the redhead, and what’s-his-name, the guy with the bow…

 

There was another explosion and then the camera moved to show Loki, using his magic to make part of a building crumble.

 

Darcy tugged out her earbuds, feeling like the bottom of her stomach had dropped.

 

*

 

The next time she saw him was two weeks later. Almost all of the SHIELD agents were long out of the hospital by then.

 

Darcy had taken a break from entering new data sets for Jane to play a cathartic game of Spider Solitaire. All of a sudden she felt a prickle that raised the hairs on the back of her neck.

 

“You never answered my email.”

 

She drew a steadying breath before spinning her chair around. Loki was eyeing her with an unreadable look, his arms folded. There was a faint healing mark across his forehead that looked like a burn.

 

“That would be because I blocked your address, you psychopath,” she snapped at him. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out about what you did?”

 

Loki’s expression never wavered. “No,” he answered simply.

 

Darcy felt an electric surge, an equal mixture of anger and disbelief. “So what? You thought that I wouldn’t have any problem with you trying to kill your own brother? Not to mention all those other people.”

 

His gaze drifted to the side for a moment. It was like he was silently _sighing_ at her. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen me do before,” he noted, cold.

 

It felt almost like he’d slapped her. Bad enough he had to say things like that, but he was belittling her at the same time – like she was a moron for not having expected it. “Well,” she managed, shoving out of her chair, “maybe I kind of thought you were _over that_ phase!”

 

It was dangerous to turn her back on him, to walk away. That was exactly what Darcy proceeded to do, just to show how little she wanted to do with him.

 

She felt a lot less self-righteous and bold when the door slammed itself shut right in her face.

 

Darcy froze where she was. She waited for Loki to say something, her pulse pounding, an uneasy shiver running up her spine.

 

Finally he went, quietly disapproving, “It’s one thing to reject me. That’s certainly your choice. But I find it downright galling for you to act as if this could really come as any sort of surprise. You were the one who suggested friendship. You already knew what I was. The things I was capable of.”

 

“I didn’t think-” Her voice caught in her throat, suddenly thick. Didn’t think he would keep doing the things she already knew he wanted to?

 

No, one thing was right: she didn’t _think_. Because if she really had, for even more than five seconds, about him, about what was going to happen, she would’ve realized the disaster on TV was only a matter of time.

 

It was like when her and her brothers tried feeding that raccoon they saw behind the garage, and their mom scolded them and said why it was a bad idea: ‘You don’t befriend a wild thing and think you can make it tame’.

 

In a hoarse whisper, Darcy asked him, “Are you going to keep trying?”

 

She couldn’t turn around. It wasn’t like he’d done anything to her; her body just refused to move.

 

There was enough space to breathe in and out before Loki answered. “Of course.”

 

Even though she could feel that he’d left, Darcy waited a few seconds before she finally looked over her shoulder at the empty air.

 

That night she lay in bed awhile before falling asleep, staring at her ceiling as she clutched her iPod. She listened to Coldplay, brooding and mellow.

 

The next day she didn’t email him. But she removed his address from her spam filter.

 

*

 

It didn’t take long for the Avengers to become household names and worldwide celebrities. They were very public, very genuine superheroes, after all. What news outlet could resist that kind of gold?

 

Although Darcy felt it probably didn’t hurt they counted someone like Tony “I was born to be a camera whore” Stark among their numbers.

 

He started throwing ‘Avengers parties’, which were a lot like his usual parties – or so she guessed, anyway, from the tabloid coverage – except that in addition to him his other teammates were also the guests of honor.

 

SHIELD strongly disapproved. But they usually couldn’t stop him.

 

The guest list expanded enough by the third one that Darcy was invited. She went because it gave her an excuse to buy a new dress and new shoes, and get her hair done at the expensive salon she normally felt somewhat guilty for visiting. Plus she had to admit she was curious and a little excited – she’d never been invited to an A-list style party before.

 

The doors opened at nine. She figured if nothing else she could stand around catching eyefuls of the beautiful people until midnight.

 

By ten-thirty she was still nursing the same pink martini. Hunger was vaguely starting to gnaw at her. Waiters passed by occasionally with little platters of cheese and cocktail hot dog thingies on toothpicks, but she had a hard time flagging one down. Darcy thought she looked good, but she also had a pretty honest estimation of her own looks – she wasn’t nearly enough to stand out in a place like this.

 

She watched the nameless women sauntering about the room in the highest of expensive heels. With all their long skinny legs, they reminded her of gazelles.

 

Even though she wasn’t anywhere near the dance floor the house music pounded in her head, fast and bass-heavy and thrumming, some mix that probably played exactly the same in every high-end club.

 

Jane and Thor had already left together. Black Widow she was pretty sure never showed up to begin with. She knew Bruce Banner had begged off, citing nerves and a need to be in bed early or something. Captain America was still there, smiling awkwardly at all the people who wanted to shake his hand, and even more awkwardly at the supermodels that wanted to lean on him. Agent Barton had found a wall to stand by aloofly, nursing a drink as his eyes trailed after the females walking by.

 

Tony Stark was just about impossible to keep track of. Darcy had thoroughly exhausted her eyeballs by trying early on.

 

Just as she was beginning to consider going ‘Screw it’ and bailing to get a burger and fries, she caught a glimpse of a familiar figure on the opposite side of the room.

 

Pale skin. Long limbs. High cheekbones. Flowing raven mane of hair. Designer green dress that matched almost perfectly the shade of her eyes.

 

Darcy exclaimed out loud, “I don’t believe it,” startling the waiter who’d been coming by to ask if she wanted a refill. She made her way over, slipping among the chattering, flirting and very rarely actually dancing guests with ease.

 

She poked Loki in the shoulder. “Please tell me you being here doesn’t mean there’s a bomb hidden in the ice sculpture.”

 

In his female form, Loki turned around and blinked at her. “Don’t be absurd,” he said disdainfully. “There are far more subtle ways to make some fun.”

 

“Well that’s a relief to hear.” Darcy sipped her drink, giving the curves of Loki’s figure a considering look. They were definitely a lot more _developed_ than last time. “The dress – Prada?” she guessed. She wasn’t the best with labels.

 

“Actually it’s Gucci.” Loki smoothed some invisible lint off his micro-mini skirt.

 

Darcy aimed a pointed look at the exposed cleavage. “Are those new?”

 

For a moment, Loki’s frown was vaguely uncomfortable. “Well I had to get in _somehow_ ,” he replied.

 

“Um, you couldn’t have just like, turned invisible, or teleported past security?” Darcy said dubiously.

 

“I could have. But then I’d run the risk of some eagle-eyed guard actually realizing they hadn’t let me by.” He shrugged gracefully. “Far easier to win my way past them.”

 

“By virtue of being a ridiculously swank-looking hot chick in a tiny dress,” Darcy observed.

 

Not that she’d argue it was without advantages. Already three waiters had made a point to stop in front of them, beaming as they offered plates of toothpicked goodies. Loki refused them all demurely, while Darcy helped herself.

 

“Are you having a good time?” he asked her. The question sounded genuine. She wasn’t sure what she should read into it, and decided it was a few hours and about half a drink too late into the evening to bother trying.

 

“Slightly better now,” she admitted. “I haven’t been finding a whole lot of people here to talk to.”

 

“I don’t think this is the kind of party for talking,” Loki remarked, shrewd.

 

There was something elitist about his attitude – Darcy got the impression if the Avengers hadn’t been involved, he’d have never come to a place like this. She realized she was kind of glad that he did.

 

“Well, well. What have we here?” They both turned their heads to find Tony Stark standing there, eyeing them with his most charming playboy smile. “Shame on you ladies, for keeping all the good looks in the room to yourselves.”

 

Darcy was opening her mouth to say _, ‘We’ve met, remember? Last Saturday, SHIELD headquarters, you asked me to get you coffee’_ , but Loki beat her.

 

“Oh, imagine you saying that.” He lowered his eyelashes, corners of painted lips rising slightly. “I’d say you’ve managed to find a bit for yourself, Mr. Stark.”

 

“Please, call me Tony.”

 

“Hmm. Maybe. What do I get in exchange if I do?”

 

“I promise to call you a cab later on.” The grin turned leering. “Actually, no; I’m lying. I’ll let you use my limo. Have the driver take you wherever you like. You’ll love it – it’s got a moonroof.”

 

Loki tilted his head back, hair trailing over one shoulder. “I think I might just accept your offer.”

 

Stark leaned in, voice lowering to a murmur, “Upstairs, first bedroom on the right, half an hour?”

 

“Fifteen minutes,” Loki responded, firm.

 

Stark chuckled at that, nodding enthusiastically, and went away. Until he was out of sight Loki favored him with a sultry gaze.

 

Darcy stared at Loki blatantly in the aftermath. “Uh. What the fuck was that?” she demanded, incredulous. It was less about the fact Tony Stark was a dude and more about how she was pretty sure he must have an STD. “You’re not…don’t tell me you’re actually going to-”

 

“Change back into my real form just seconds before he gets ready to ‘seal the deal’?” Loki cut her off, smirking sweetly.

 

Darcy’s mouth snapped shut again as she pictured that. “Oh. Wow. You really are…I want to say ‘evil’, but whatever means that, but a compliment.”

 

“Like I said.” Loki snapped his fingers, and a waiter immediately brought them glasses of champagne, for reasons that had nothing to do with magic. “There are all sorts of ways to have fun.”

 

Darcy nudged him in the shoulder companionably, grinning and swaying a bit to the house mix, as she took a drink and bubbles tickled her nose.

 

*

 

The next prank that Loki played on the rich mogul also known as Iron Man was a lot less funny. It involved some kind of impenetrable gunk jamming the thrusters on his suit while they were fighting over the ocean. He almost drowned – him and Captain America (who dived in after him) both.

 

Darcy didn’t bother going for the subtle approach that time. She sat down at her laptop and fired off an email the first she heard the news.

 

_How do expect me to rationalize hanging out with you one minute and having to maybe attend a funeral because of you the next? What are you, friend or foe?_ – she typed out furiously.

 

He responded:

 

_Who says that I can’t be both? I consider myself a very versatile creature._

Her message:

 

_That isn’t funny._

His message:

 

_I wasn’t trying to be._

After a few deep calming breathes and a few hours to think about things, Darcy sent him another email.

 

_I am not your brother. I’m not going to keep forgiving you for every awful thing you do. I don’t have to, the way he does. You keep coming back to me and I thought that was because you valued our friendship. If I’m right and you do, you’re going to have to make a choice._

She didn’t think she’d get a reply to that until maybe the next day, but to her surprise it only took him until after lunch.

 

_Three things, Darcy-_

_First, it would do you a great benefit to never mention Thor to me in that context, ever again._

_Second, whether I value your friendship or not, don’t imagine for an instant you’re worth enough to completely outweigh a grudge born out of centuries. I would’ve assumed you had more sense than that._

_Third. I have already made my choice._

_The one of us who has a choice to make here is you._

 

For a long time Darcy sat there, numbly staring at the screen of her computer.

 

But Loki was right. He kept making it obvious what he was, what he intended to do with his powers and his time, and for some reason she kept trying to pretend she’d misheard him. She did have a choice to make.

 

The voice of common sense screamed _, Walk away from this trainwreck._

Darcy couldn’t put it into words, or even explain it to herself sufficiently, really, why she chose to ignore it.

 

Her fingers trembled only briefly as she typed out:

 

_You can never, ever try to use me against them. If I even suspect that’s what you’re doing, I’ll never speak to you again. Period._

Of course that time he made her wait for a response. She finally fell into fitful sleep well past midnight. In the morning she had two messages.

 

The first said:

 

_Of course not. That would be cheating._

The second, sent a few hours later, said:

 

_Do you think you could recommend some new songs to me? Something for a less cheerful mood. Trying to find anything good on the radio is tedious._

Darcy sank her head into her hands, thinking the burning sensation behind her eyes probably wasn’t just from eyestrain. Shame he hadn’t raided her iPod of a few years ago, or he would have already been introduced to Evanescence and Linkin Park. Now _there_ was music to be anguished and angry at the world to.

 

She wasn’t really in the mood to think too hard, but luckily she still had all the Papa Roach songs her teenage brother had stuck on her iTunes when she’d come home for Thanksgiving. She sent Loki those.

 

*

 

Four days later it was raining, something Darcy would’ve thought didn’t really happen in New Mexico; apparently, depending on the season, she was wrong.

 

She was walking back towards the repurposed auto store she called ‘home’ and, perversely, also ‘work’. Her head was down, hood of her sweatshirt drawn up tight to try and prevent a total soaking.

 

All of a sudden she felt a presence next to hers, the rain stop pounding on her head. She looked up.

 

Loki was holding a giant umbrella over both of them. He was wearing a nice suit – the kind that came with gloves, an overcoat and a scarf. It looked less out of place on him than she would’ve imagined.

 

“Let me guess,” she said. “Just passing through?”

 

He barely lifted one eyebrow. “You’ve never questioned my motives for appearing in front of you before.”

 

The unspoken end to that was: _So why start now?_ It was cold and he had the umbrella, so Darcy decided to listen to it. They kept walking.

 

She shifted closer to him than was necessary, putting a hand on top of his wrist where he held the handle. It was like she was trying to prove something; to remind them both she was possibly the only human who’d gotten inside his personal bubble, and far as she was concerned she had rights to do it again.

 

Loki tensed for an instant, ever so slightly. But he didn’t move away.

 

Darcy could make out the windows of the diner through the rain. She wondered if Roz and her regulars could see them from inside. If by tomorrow their tongues would be wagging, asking Darcy about the tall dark stranger that walked her home.

 

Loki’s body was slightly warm next to hers. She could feel the thin sinewy muscle of his arm beneath his coat. He gave off a faint scent Darcy was learning to recognize, something she couldn’t name that reminded her of earth and ozone. She wondered if it was the smell of magic, or just him.

 

“Thank you for the songs,” Loki said to her, offhand.

 

“You’re welcome.” She shifted, trying to wring some dampness out of her hair. “Did you like them?”

 

“It was…different.” He gave a wan smirk. “A little too much yelling for my tastes.”

 

“Yeah, well. They weren’t mine.”

 

“I guessed.”

 

Darcy shrugged. “Next time I’ll try to find something better.” Absently she pulled out her iPod, wondering if there was something in her library she’d forgotten about, and hit shuffle. Immediately it came up with “Monster”. She stared at it as if in betrayal.

 

Although. That did remind her of something.

 

“Lady Gaga started off her last televised performance with a dedication to some unnamed friend.” She turned to fix Loki with a pointed, suspicious stare. “She said it was to her ‘favorite green-eyed little monster’.”

 

He gave her a look that was completely innocent; _too_ innocent to be genuine. If he didn’t know what she was talking about he would’ve at least appeared surprised.

 

“A lot of people have green eyes.”

 

“Uh huh.” Darcy rolled _her_ brown ones. “The least you could do is get me an autograph.”

 

Loki smiled, chuckling. “We’ll see.”

 

They talked the rest of the way about nothing in particular; chitchat between periods of companionable silence. Like any other pair of friends in the world.

 

*

 

Between Loki’s tendency to literally just pop up whenever, and how Thor’s idea of knocking constituted throwing a door open and booming “My friends!” before he entered, Darcy had gotten used to people showing up uninvited and without warning.

 

Probably a good thing, considering how many SHIELD flunkies constantly came in and out. If they weren’t checking up on their progress then they were asking for paperwork.

 

Having legitimate reasons, however, didn’t make it any less annoying.

 

“So this is what you do around here, huh?” Clint Barton leaned over with arms folded, watching Darcy as she plugged numbers into Jane’s data-crunching equations. “Looks thrilling.”

 

“We don’t all rate codenames and self-determined job titles, mister ‘I am the world’s greatest marksman’,” Darcy said back to him snippily.

 

He smirked, unfazed. “So what do you do in your off-time? I assume you have off-time.” He tapped at the screen. “Something tells me _this_ doesn’t keep you occupied twenty-four-seven.”

 

“Whatever I want. I’m unpredictable.” She didn’t even look at him, holding her chin up. “It’s not like I have to live at the gym – unlike _some_ people, I’m sure.”

 

Eventually he got the hint and gathered up the forms he’d come for, shuffling out.

 

Erik passed him on his way into the lab. He silently watched the agent go.

 

Then he turned towards Darcy, giving her an odd grin.

 

She stared at Erik. “What?”

 

“He has the eye for you, I think,” he observed, meaningfully. “I’d say it’s pretty obvious.”

 

Darcy felt her face heat up. “Oh come on,” she objected in disbelief. “He does _not_ …he’s just another government drone!”

 

“What do you suppose he’s always dropping by for then? I think paper retrieval rates a little below his salary.”

 

She quickly escaped to the kitchen, popping in her earbuds so she wouldn’t have to listen to Erik’s romantic theorizations.

 

There wasn’t much on her iPod that came out before 2005, but she kept a few eighties ballads on there, mostly so she could have something to rock out to while doing the dishes. When she recognized the opening strains of Bonnie Tyler she nodded in amused approval.

 

By the time she reached her destination, she was belting out, _“I need a hero! I’m holding out for a hero ‘til the end of the night! He’s gotta be strong, and he’s gotta be fast, and he’s gotta be-”_

She cut off as she opened the fridge and found Loki’s head and shoulders sitting in the middle of the center shelf, eyeing her from some sort of mystic portal.

 

“Oh my – Norse god!” Darcy exclaimed, spluttering.  She took a moment to stop feeling like she was about to have a heart attack. “Are you _kidding_ me?”

 

Leaning forward for a closer look, she had the urge to poke his face, which was surrounded by green swirls. It was like something straight out of the Sabrina the Teenage Witch series. “What’re you _doing_ in there, checking to see if our milk is expired?” she demanded.

 

“Actually, no.” Loki’s voice was completely flat with sarcasm. “I had a few other things on my mind.”

 

“Like?”

 

Before he could reply, someone else spoke from a few feet away.

 

“Are you talking to the refrigerator?” Erik asked in bewilderment.

 

Darcy felt every muscle in her body instantly tighten. Only the fact that Erik was on the wrong side of the door kept him from seeing Loki.

 

“I’m having a conversation with your tai food leftovers.” She somehow managed a calm tone, even a mocking one. “I think they’ve been in here so long they’ve become sentient.”

 

“Ha ha,” Erik responded with dismissive annoyance before walking away. “Very funny.”

 

Darcy let out a sigh of relief. “Okay,” she faced Loki again, “you were saying?”

 

“To be honest I was mostly testing a different form of communication.” He frowned, thinking. “Seems my calculations are slightly off.”

 

She narrowed her eyes. “You had better not have been trying to get a look at me in the shower.”

 

“Why would I possibly want to do that?” he replied.

 

In response, Darcy slammed the door shut on him.

 

She knew he wasn’t _really_ trapped inside the refrigerator, but it still gave her a small sense of satisfaction.

 

*

 

The next week they had a heat wave. Darcy made no secret of how she was making getting work done, at that point, a low-level priority. She intended to spend most her energy trying not to melt.

 

Heading outside was a terrible idea, but she had to brave it for the excruciating twelve-minute walk between the lab and the air-conditioned corner store. She intended to try as many samples at the ice cream counter as she could before they kicked her out.

 

Loki appeared as she passed the barber shop. For a moment she considered the possibility he might just be a mirage.

 

“What are you doing?” he questioned. Either he was packing some kind of cooling spell or being Asgardian also made him immune to temperature. Not a thread in his usual attire was out of place.

 

Darcy eyed his perfectly-coiffed hair, grabbing up her own in a fist to get it off her sweaty neck. “At the moment? Looking for a way to beat this insane heat.”

 

She glanced at her watch. Eight minutes. She’d never make it.

 

“I see,” Loki remarked. He pressed a finger to his chin. She was almost completely sure he was mocking her, though he gave no outward sign of it. “And this is normally how you’d choose to go about that? Taking a long walk through the desert under the sun.”

 

“ _No_ ,” she spat at him, huffily. “If I had any choice at all, I’d go swimming.”

 

“That’s what you would prefer to be doing right now, then. Swimming.”

 

There was something weird about the way he kept asking her she couldn’t put her finger on. He had a canny, fixed look in his eyes.

 

Maybe if she could actually think without frying all her braincells. She sighed despondently.

 

“Yeah. But there’s no place around here I can get to.”

 

There was a flash. She couldn’t see anything. Her body felt tingly all over, and there was a sensation like being jerked along through the air.

 

The next thing Darcy knew, she’d been plunked down in the ocean. She was wearing a brown and blue cut-out swimsuit, and she had a view of a white sandy shore. She swam towards it.

 

Loki was waiting in one of two beach chairs. He’d traded his clothes for dark green shorts and a white robe. As Darcy padded over, a man in a uniform was bringing him a mojito on a silver tray. They were on a resort, she realized.

 

“And would you like anything to drink as well, miss?” the server asked with a politely eager smile.

 

Darcy’s throat was suddenly burning for a frozen strawberry daiquiri. “Yeah, sure. I would.”

 

After the guy left with her order, she glanced over at Loki. He slid his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, enough to meet her eyes.

 

On the empty chair beside his was a folded towel, her glasses, her iPod and a magazine.

 

She gave him a dirty look anyway. “A little warning would’ve been nice,” she insisted. “What if I’d been caught by surprise and drowned?”

 

“I had faith in you,” Loki said, unconcerned. He went back to his book – a leather-bound tome in what was definitely no Earth language she’d ever seen.

 

“A little light beach reading?” Darcy flounced over to her chair, snorting. “You are such a nerd.”

 

He pointedly turned and flicked a page aside, ignoring her.

 

She looked around. The white sand stretched on far as the eye could see, looking practically untouched beneath a cloudless azure sky. The breeze wasn’t quite warm enough to be tropical but it still felt heavenly against her skin, and the water was a shade of surreal mouth-watering blue she’d never seen outside of a desktop.

 

“Where _are_ we?”

 

“Monaco.” At her questioning look, he merely shrugged. “An associate spoke of it highly.”

 

Probably she should be asking just exactly who Loki was palling around with, that they were giving him recommendations for exclusive European beach resorts. But all Darcy really wanted to do right then was relax by the waves.

 

“Sunscreen?”

 

He didn’t look up from his book. “You’re already wearing it.”

 

“Wow.” She blinked. “Geeze, you’re thorough.”

 

He didn’t bother responding, which was fine by her. Lying back in a reclining position, she picked up her iPod and switched it on. Some situations were just made for Jason Mraz.

 

*

 

He forgot her birthday.

 

It wasn’t like it should be a big deal or anything, really. Darcy never told him when it was and he’d never asked either. But Loki carried on all the time like he could, and _had_ found out all sorts of other information with very little effort. She just figured if he wanted to, if he _cared_ , he would know when it was.

 

Darcy went out of town to celebrate with her friends at the college. When she got back, she called her mom for a long birthday chat.

 

She kept thinking at the back of her mind she’d round a corner and he’d been standing there, or she’d turn around and an object would’ve mysteriously appeared. A cake, a gift, or even a card.

 

But the day came and went and there was nothing from Loki. Not so much as a sign.

 

Darcy hugged her pillow angrily that night, not sure _why_ she was upset. So the supervillain hadn’t done anything for her birthday. So what? She was way too old to expect the world to stop turning and everyone to celebrate just because she was another year older.

 

But you know, maybe it would have been nice, just a little sign of appreciation – after all the stress and heartache she put herself through on a regular basis, having to live with somebody like him as her friend.

 

There was something on the news the day after that, about the Avengers having to fight a bunch of deadly museum exhibits that’d been brought to life by supernatural forces.

 

Loki seemed to realize right away something was off, when he was in her room not twenty-four hours later and she wasn’t yelling at him about that.

 

“Is something wrong?” His brow rose in perplexity. “You seem rather…unresponsive.”

 

Darcy had her arms folded, staring straight ahead, instead of at Loki who stood off to one side. “Do you know what two days ago was?” she asked him stiffly.

 

He paused, thinking for a moment. “No,” he admitted.

 

Darcy sucked her cheeks in. This was stupid. She shouldn’t have said anything. He was probably going to sneer at her, for expecting he should care.

 

She folded her arms tighter. “It was my birthday.” Her voice was low, muttered, but for a note it cracked anyway, strained.

 

Loki said nothing at first. He blinked slowly a few times.

 

“Oh,” he remarked at last, with a tone of dawning comprehension. “I didn’t realize – but you _would_ still care about that, wouldn’t you?”

 

Darcy turned to stare at him, because she sure hadn’t expected _that_.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Loki was beginning to smile, wryly. “I mean, you mortals probably don’t start to ignore the individual years, the way we often do.”

 

She kept staring at him. There was the rush of blood to her head she associated with an epiphany: he was from another world and another species and most of them lived a really long time and he was _over thousands of years old._ What was turning twenty-three, to that? _Duh_.

 

Her voice felt detached from her body as she spoke. “You don’t celebrate your birthday?”

 

His expression changed. His mouth set tightly, but she thought she caught something sad and tired in his eyes. “Thor always did. But I – I usually don’t like being the center of attention.”

 

There was so much he wasn’t saying, obviously. But Darcy thought she could mostly figure it out; probably a mix of how despite his angry pranks he really was kind of introverted, and throwing a big party would only call into attention how differently people felt about him compared to his brother.

 

She shrugged. “Oh. Okay. Whatever you want, I guess.”

 

Loki seemed to push it aside with a mercurial mood swing. His eyes flashed. “But I, it seems, have been terribly remiss,” he murmured, pressing a hand flat over his chest. “So terribly sorry, Darcy. I owe you a present. What would you like?”

 

She laughed, swatting him in the arm. “Oh, come off it, you dork. It’s fine. I was only upset because I thought you didn’t care.”

 

He persisted, however, and finally Darcy said if he thought it was a point of honor or whatever that she got something, he could bring her a cupcake with a sparkler in it.

 

Loki did just that. She blew out the candle without remembering to make a wish, and they sat on the roof and split it.

 

The next day she discovered her account on iTunes had been credited with over a hundred dollars.

 

Her good mood didn’t get to last very long. The next time Loki caused trouble, it was in the form of an earthquake – he leveled half a town and the Hulk was missing for three days and Agent Coulson almost died and Black Widow’s leg got broken.

 

Darcy stormed to her room, turning on her iPod, trying to take her mind off things. But it started playing Florence + the Machine, bitter and broken, and she almost threw it into the wall.

 

She should’ve used her wish for an escape route out of this friendship that was threatening to eat her alive.

 

Or she should’ve wished that Loki could just get over himself, so he’d stop fighting this war that no matter what, it felt like _she_ was destined to lose.

 

*

 

When Darcy was in middle school, there’d been a fortune-telling game she and her best friend would play at the other girl’s house after school.

 

It was about as silly as could be expected: they’d load up her parents’ CD changer, put it on random, and then say the name of somebody they knew – usually boys in their class, since they were, after all, sixth grade girls.

 

Then they’d wait and see what song played. The result was usually more ridiculous than meaningful, but then, most “fortune-telling” methods girls came up with at that age were.

 

If asked Darcy would say she’d long outgrown games like that.

 

But the truth was sometimes, when she was bored and no one was around to judge her, she’d still play.

 

It was the middle of the afternoon. She’d finished her work for Jane – the building was empty except for her.

 

Armed with her iPod, Darcy saw no reason not to. She hit the button, and then said aloud “Loki”, even though part of her really knew better – because if there was one person likely to be summoned by the mention of his own name, it was him.

 

The next thing she knew Loki was standing in front of her with a distantly impatient expression.

 

“What?”

 

She didn’t answer right away, because Nicki Minaj’s “Super Bass” had started playing in her ears.

 

She wasn’t exactly sure what the look on her own face was, but she was thinking it had to be pretty priceless.

 

_I said, excuse me, you’re a hell of a guy, I mean my my my, you’re like pelican fly. I mean, you’re so shy, and I’m loving your tie…_

 

She yanked the buds out of her ears quickly. Heat was rising to her face.

 

Loki was giving her a genuinely bewildered stare. “What is it?”

 

“I, um…nothing,” she said, floundering. She set her iPod down and then nudged it underneath a pillow.

 

Forcing a smile and a shrug, she continued, breezily, “I just wanted to see if you were free to hang out for a little while.”

 

She tried not to think about a later part, where the lyrics remarked: _“I can tell that you’re in touch with your feminine side”_. Some things had to be coincidence, right?

 

Loki frowned again, tugging one of his gloves. “Well. I have to be in Latveria in a few hours, so I can’t stay long.”

 

“Latveria? Why are you-” Darcy stopped as soon as she thought about it, holding up a hand. “No, no, never mind. I do _not_ want to know,” she declared severely.

 

Loki smiled thinly, giving a graceful shrug. “If you prefer.”

 

“I do ‘prefer’, thanks.” There was a line, and it was on the side of her not winding up in the middle of his criminal activities. “So, how’s your love life?” she asked, to change the subject dramatically, and also just to be a smartass.

 

He didn’t respond with even a flicker of an eyelid. “Very amusing.”

 

“Aw – no dates, lately?”

 

“What about _you?_ ” he returned, mimicking her tone of too-interested cheerfulness perfectly. Darcy made a face.

 

“Jerk.” She was quiet a moment, before she found herself telling him, “You know, Clint Barton might have a thing for me.”

 

Loki gave her a long considering look. “Hawkeye?” He sounded taken aback. “ _Really_ ,” he scoffed.

 

Darcy frowned at him, feeling like she’d just been insulted. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

 

But he was smirking again as he lifted his head to look at her, his eyes narrowing. She felt something flip-flop oddly in her stomach.

 

Loki shook his head.

 

“It’s just – I would’ve honestly thought that you could do _much_ better than _that_.”

 

*

 

“You’re not under some kind of spell, are you? Enchantment of loyalty, something like that?”

 

Captain America sounded almost hopeful as he asked. But Darcy supposed it would’ve made things a lot easier to comprehend, if that were the case.

 

From behind his shoulder Tony Stark was shooting him a look like the question personally offended him; though he tended to make that expression whenever magic was mentioned in his presence.

 

Darcy’s fists were clenched tight by her sides. “No,” she insisted through grit teeth, hotly. The corners of her eyes stung with anger and indignation. “I’m not.”

 

She had _long_ given up on trying to keep her involvement with Loki a secret, from her bosses or his brother or anyone else. It was just too hard, both in general and for her sanity.

 

She’d just hoped for the most part with it out in the open, she could keep the strange friendship on the sidelines, unattached from other parts of her life.

 

And for the most part, it was.

 

But then there were days like today, when SHIELD’s security got hacked and she wound up being interrogated for almost three hours, just to make sure she hadn’t “accidentally leaked something”. When after finally being released by them, their agents begrudgingly satisfied, before she could escape the building she found herself accosted in the hallway, the Avengers between her and the exit.

 

Everyone was staring at her, frowning at her. They didn’t _get_ it.

 

What was she supposed to tell them? “Neither do I”?

 

Captain America’s expression softened at the look on her face. Maybe he wasn’t any closer to understanding, but he backed off anyway.

 

“Okay. I wasn’t trying to upset you, Miss Lewis,” he said gently. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Can I _go_ now?” she demanded.

 

Black Widow had a blank if unfriendly expression. “Security says they’ve cleared you. No reason why you can’t.” Her voice was without inflection – maybe she believed security’s conclusions, maybe she didn’t, but she followed orders.

 

Stark muttered at Dr. Banner, who fiddled with his glasses and shook his head.

 

“Leave me out of it,” he said, shortly. “I’ve got more important things to take care of.”

 

Stark muttered something else, about needing a drink – everyone was ignoring him.

 

The team drifted apart filing off in different directions, but Clint was still standing in Darcy’s way. His arms were crossed over his chest. The line of his mouth was probably tighter than the one in the bow hanging off his shoulder.

 

“I never pegged you for the ‘falling senselessly for the bad boy’ type,” he told her.

 

She glared at him, pissed. “That’s not even remotely it.”

 

“At least that would make some kind of sense,” he retorted. His irritation was palpable. “You either have the worst taste in the world or – or I don’t even know.”

 

“No. You know what, _no_ ; you _don’t_. So why don’t you go _fuck off?_ ”

 

He shook his head one more time before leaving, like he was getting the last word. Furious, Darcy dropped her gaze to the floor. She pulled out her iPod.

 

It offered up “Over My Head”. Darcy groaned in disbelief. Great; either her iPod was possessed, or it’d developed a mind of its own and even _it_ was voicing disapproval of her friendship with Loki.

 

She put her head into her hands. She felt like she might cry – if she didn’t scream first.

 

Seriously. How did this happen? How had she ended up like this?

 

All of a sudden she felt a hand come to rest on her shoulders. A big, strong hand; warm and comforting.

 

“Hi Thor,” Darcy said, her voice scratchy. Belatedly she realized he’d been the only one _not_ glaring holes into her during the showdown.

 

But of course he wouldn’t have been, would he? He was on the same side.

 

Thor gave her a silent one-armed hug.

 

He didn’t say anything. He just stayed by Darcy reassuringly, guiding her back home.

 

*

 

It went around and around in her head. Darcy would get angry with herself, with Loki, with everyone who kept acting like they thought she was special needs for making her own life choices, even if they _were_ admittedly really stupid ones – but as angry as she got, she always wound up faltering, flip-flopping and, ultimately, bailing whenever she thought of trying to _do_ something about it.

 

She’d never been a particularly organized person. At least, not the slightest bit more organized than she needed to be, in order to function. She wasn’t the type to make lists. She definitely didn’t do pros versus cons.

 

If she ever gave in and made a list it would be about Loki – except the “cons” side would go on and on and on.

 

They’d been doing this for almost a year. They were friends, all right – but Darcy was in the uncomfortable position of also being friends with people who Loki considered his sworn enemies.

 

Sometimes she felt boxed in on all sides.

 

She was sitting on the roof at work, legs kicking over the side. She’d woken up and been unable to go back to sleep. It was too early in the morning.

 

She couldn’t listen to her iPod though. Her battery was dead.

 

“Good morning, Darcy.”

 

Of course he was there. He was always there, at the worst times and the best times, and all the other times too. He was like her second half, her shadow; always so close by it wouldn’t surprise her if he felt it whenever her heart skipped a beat.

“Why are you here?”

 

It just slipped out without her meaning to. Her voice echoed dully, flat, in the heavy air of a New Mexico dawn.

 

She could feel the weight of Loki staring at her. “Excuse me?” he asked. “Do I need a reason to be, now?”

 

“I mean – why are you _here_. Not just here-here, but why…why do you keep doing this.” Everything came out of her, tumbled and frustrated. “Why do you keep sowing chaos just ‘cus you can? Why won’t you let yourself care when people get hurt? Why is it so hard to _stop_ for a second and talk to your brother or your family? Why do you want everyone to suffer including you?”

 

She paused, sucking in a breath. Turning her head she looked up to meet his eyes.

 

“Why am I the only exception to how you’ve decided you need to spend the rest of your life alone?”

 

The sun was in her eyes, and the glare reflected off her glasses. She had to squint. But she could see how Loki had gone completely still – the way the hollow of his throat rose and fell slightly as he breathed in and out, too fast to be natural.

 

“How dare you.”

 

His voice was cold, furious, and the furthest thing from human. The voice of a god about to smite some offending mortal down.

 

But Darcy wasn’t afraid. She’d been put through too much by now, she realized, to feel anything but tired. She gave a ghost of a smile.

 

“Maybe I should be honored, I know. Color me all kinds of ungrateful. But I can’t…you make me laugh, and I _like_ you, I really do.” She shook her head, wind tugging at strands of her messy ponytail. “But I don’t know how much longer I can shoulder the burden.”

 

She honestly didn’t know what she was doing. Was this an ultimatum, or just a statement of fact?

 

Loki’s eyes were wide. With the sun at his back they should have been all whites and pupils, but she could still see deep, vibrant green. His body stiffened – she wasn’t sure if he’d gone tense, or was shuddering.

 

And Darcy just sat there, waiting to see what would happen.

 

_You don’t befriend a wild thing and think you can make it tame._

 

Loki drew his head back, arrogantly, and looked down the line of his nose at her with disdain.

 

“Forgive me,” he sneered, scathing, “I wasn’t aware I was _burdening_ you.”

 

With one hand he drew his cape back, bending in something that wasn’t a bow but similar enough to count as mocking reference. “How thoughtless of me – I won’t be inconveniencing you any further.”

 

And like that, he was gone. No puff of smoke, no flash or pop or roaring sound, no smell of sulfur.

 

Gone. Without any sign he’d ever been there to begin with.

 

Darcy would know better, of course. But who really cared what she thought?

 

*

 

A week without a sign of Loki, either in person or in the form of activity reported on the news, was as good an indicator as any that he never planned on returning.

 

Darcy should’ve left it at that. She’d made her choice. She’d stuck by it. But then, he’d stuck by his too – eventually the two had come to blows. And that certainly wasn’t her fault.

 

They weren’t going to be friends anymore. Darcy was free to hate Loki like everyone else did – or not, whatever. Whatever she wanted. The point was, she was free.

 

She should have just left it at that.

 

She couldn’t.

 

In the late hours of the night Darcy found herself sitting hunched over the glow of her laptop, typing a message.

 

_Loki-_

 

_You can delete this. You can ignore it. Whatever you like. I’m not really expecting a response, to be honest._

_But I just wanted to let you know.  If you ever change your mind, you still know where to find me. You can come back and visit any time. I promise I won’t say I told you so. I won’t say a thing._

_Yours, Darcy_

 

She sent the email and felt absolutely no surprise at all that there wasn’t any sent back in reply.

 

But her message didn’t bounce back to her, or return marked undeliverable. That probably meant that he’d gotten it. She figured that was enough.

 

Another week went by. Then another. Thor stopped asking if she had seen his brother. Jane wouldn’t keep “randomly” asking if she “was doing okay” or if there was “anything she needed to talk about”. Agent Coulson would walk past her in the hallway with a glance and a polite nod, nothing more.

 

She was graduating really soon. SHIELD had already offered her a job: basically, keeping her on as Jane’s assistant. It was probably less about any work experience she had and more they already knew she could put up with Jane – as much as anyone could – and keep her mouth shut. Plus, they obviously wanted to keep an eye on her. She’d been too close to too many top secret type things to be released straight into the wild.

 

But the salary was pretty good. And the benefits package was killer.

 

Clint had asked her if she wanted to catch a movie sometime, maybe go out for drinks or a coffee. She told him she was too busy.

 

Life went on.

 

Darcy was alone at the lap, again, waiting for the printer to finish spitting out a spreadsheet. Her feet were propped on the table, and she was playing “Pocketful of Sunshine” on iTunes without really listening to it.

 

All of a sudden she felt a prickle against her skin. She caught a scent – earth, and ozone.

 

She spun her chair around on its wheels.

 

Loki stood there. He was hurt; like, really hurt. He didn’t seem to have the energy to stand up straight and he had a hand pressed to his other shoulder, arm hanging. Darcy thought she caught some glimpses of dried blood.

 

She shot to her feet. “Oh man,” she started in alarm. “Are you-?”

 

“I’ll be fine,” he cut her off, simply. “I’ll heal.” He glanced at his arm. “However it may appear, this is nothing.”

 

He looked back at her. Stared straight into her eyes, and swallowed.

 

“I just,” he began, quietly, fighting wavering emotion. “Right now, all I wanted, was to be with a friend.”

 

“Yeah.” Darcy managed a smile. “Sure.”

 

She dragged out a blanket and they sat on the floor. Loki put his head in his lap, and she stroked his hair. They didn’t need to talk.

 

She didn’t ask him how he’d gotten injured. If it’d been from one of his shady allies, or one of the heroes Darcy technically worked for. It wasn’t important, and she didn’t care.

 

You don’t befriend a wild thing and think you can make it tame. But you can befriend it anyway.

 

That was her choice.

 

They lay there together, close and comfortable, and listened to the music.


End file.
